


Neko Kissaten

by clxude



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, akkashi and bokuto are cats, and it's called neko kissaten, and they're in love your welcome, great right, just let my child sleep, kenma is a photographer, kenma the DRAMAtical murder fanboy extraordinaire, kuroo has a cat cafe, kuroo tetsurou- certified gift to humanity, making out over pie, mother taketora to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kozume Kenma would rather be sleeping, but he'll still get up to visit Neko Kissaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neko Kissaten

**Author's Note:**

> and i really like this

“Do I really have to go?”

 

“Yes, Kenma. I pay you for a reason.” Kenma, instead of answering, went back to hiding under his blankets. Taketora sighed. “Kenma,”

 

He could see Kenma’s form under his blankets, the light of his phone peeking out from under his comforter. It wasn’t unusual for Kenma to be like this. Whether he was barely conscience after binge playing a BL game, or just out of it, Kenma was a horror film in the making whenever Tora had to wake him up.

 

“I think you’ll like today, Kenma.” Tora sat at the edge of the bed, tracing his toes over the soft carpet. “Not that I ever send you on boring shoots, of course. What’s the point in that?”

 

He waited for a response, but continued on when he didn’t receive on.

 

“There’s a new cat café open. Oikawa wants pictures, so I suggested sending you. Apparently, they have pie, apple. I heard it’s really good. You like that, don’t you?”

 

A small _yes_ filled the silence. Taketora was barely able to make it out, but he smiled nonetheless.

 

“I went to high school with the owner. He’s really nice, Kenma.” He paused, weighing the outcome of his next words. With a simple fuck it, he continued. “He’s your type, as well. And he likes cats and can bake well enough to own a café. You should check it out.”

 

The blankets shifted and fell as Kenma sat up. His hair was messy and mostly covering his eyes. he yawned and stretched his arms, before brushing his hair out of his eyes. Even if it took him a solid ten minutes to get out of bed, Tora had never seen Kenma move so quickly the entire time they had been friends.

 

“What time do I start?”

 

...

 

Kenma walked down the sidewalk, his camera bouncing against his stomach. He stared at his converse, the sounds of them hitting the pavement filling his mind. The early spring wind bit through his wool sweater. He curled his fingers in the long sleeves.

 

When he finally reached the café, he stopped. A wooden specials board stood beside the door, displaying that Tora was right, and that they did in fact have apple pie.

 

He gripped the fish shaped door handle and lugged it open. It was warm inside, smelling of fresh pastry and cat fur. He liked it instantly, from the orange tabby sitting on the window ledge to the soft mint walls.

 

“I’ll be there in a second!” Kenma couldn’t pinpoint the origin of the voice, but he suspected that it came from the kitchen. He hoped it was worth it, coming here had to be. Sure, it was his job and he needed the money and he didn’t even have to pay for his train fare, but all of that was out of the question. It was early still, and the sky was still casted in purples and blues near the western horizon.

 

But, to this day, Taketora had never let him down. And it was just another day as Kenma dropped his camera on a table and sat down in a white and pink metal chair. And it was just another day, and Taketora still hadn’t let him down.

 

He had dark hair, messy and long, curled over his eyes and spiked up. His eyes were cold and calculating, but they seemed to light up when he smiled at Kenma. His red shirt had cats and paw prints all over it as if a feline version of the ugly Hawaiian button up.

 

“Welcome to Neko Kissaten,”

 

Kenma smiled back, but his grip on his camera strap tightened. He had never been good with people, and maybe that was what drove him to photography in college. The lens kept him distant. People never saw him, just the camera. He could hide all he wanted, and everyone would just associate it with his job.

 

“Tora sent me? Yamamoto Taketora?” Kenma stared at the other man’s feet as he spoke, hoping that he would understand. “He said that Oikawa Toru wanted pictures,”

 

“Oh, yeah! He sent me a message. You must be Kenma?”

 

Kenma smiled, happy that his hair covered his blushing cheeks. Introductions were always the hardest for him. But, things seemed easier with Kuroo.

 

Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s hand and led him behind the counter. Kenma snatched up his camera from the table, tripping over his converse laces and uneven tile.

 

“I haven’t let out any of the cats yet,” He explained. As they walked further into the café, Kenma could make out the sound of cats meowing. “Once they are out, you can start photographing them and I can get you something to eat, if you want.”

 

Kenma nodded, fingering the buttons on his camera. He snapped a few pictures of Kuroo as he filled bowls with cat food. Kenma smiled as Kuroo pet one of the cats, a gray and white tabby.

 

“Does it have a name?” Kenma wasn’t sure why he asked, but the words slipped out before he could ask. But Kuroo just smiled up at him as he stroked the cat.

 

“He’s Bokuto,” Kenma crouched beside Kuroo and scratched behind the cat’s ears. The kitty purred, brushing its tail against Kenma’s leg. “And he’s in love with- “ He pointed to a black cat. “-That one, Akaashi,”

 

“Are they really, or are you forcing them?” The words were quiet, so he wasn’t sure if Kuroo had heard.

 

“They are, Kenma.” He flicked Kenma’s hip. “I can prove it to you,”

 

He walked over to Akaashi and scooped him up. He cradled the cat to his chest, humming and rocking him as if it was a baby. He walked back to Kenma and Bokuto, and deposited the cat beside the other. Bokuto started to lick Akaashi, meowing contently. The black cat hissed, but didn’t move away.

 

“See? What did I tell you?” His voice was proud and confident, as if he had proved more than the love of two felines.

 

Kenma shrugged before taking a picture of the two cats. Several other cats wonder over to them as Kuroo filled a few more food dishes. Eventually, Kuroo heads to the kitchen, leaving Kenma alone with the cats.

 

He liked it at Neko Kissaten, he decides. It’s warm and pretty and the cats are soft and friendly. By the time Kuroo comes back with pie and tea, approximately 4.5 cats are on top of Kenma and his SD card is full.

 

He doesn’t mind, though, as he walks out of the café an hour later. Oikawa doesn’t really need pictures of latte art, and if he does, it’s just another excuse for Kenma to go back and visit Bokuto and Akaashi.

 

And maybe, it’s all one great big excuse to see the messy-haired owner.

 

...

 

“I got Taketora to _nicely_ get you out of bed to take pictures at a cat café which I knew _for a fact_ to be owned for someone you would find attractive!” Oikawa threw his hands up in the air, causing coffee to slosh over the rim of his mug. If it burned his hand, Oikawa didn’t notice; he was too deep in his rant. “And then you only take pictures of cats and Kuroo Tetsuro’s ass!”

 

Kenma blushes and shifts in his seat. A day had passed since he sent the pictures to Oikawa for his magazine article on local small businesses. Kenma had planned on sleeping in and ignoring everyone and everything except DRAMAtical Murder.

 

Oikawa Toru didn’t seem to understand this. He was this way with everyone. It didn’t matter if it was three PM or three AM; if Oikawa needed you, he wouldn’t back down. Kenma had no desire to go to an internet café at one in the morning, but Taketora had thrown him out of the apartment until he did his job.

 

“And while I will admit his ass was extremely nice, it’s a family friendly magazine.”

 

“Because no one would buy your doujinshi.” Kenma mumbled into his cup.

 

“Kenma!” Oikawa glared. “That was extremely rude. And I did sell a few copies of my doujinshi- “

 

“To your boyfriend and your kohai?”

 

“Shut up,”

 

...

 

As much as Oikawa had annoyed him, Kenma headed out to Neko Kissaten after a few hours of sleep. He has his camera and a bag jammed full with extra lens and SD cards. It bounces against his hip as he rides the train, but he doesn’t mind. It’s nothing new at this point, and far less taxing than when he was in college.

 

By the time his hand is on the fish-shaped doorknob, the sun is beginning is rise. He’s not even sure if the café is open this early. He ends up letting go off the door and taking a step back. He turns around to head back to the station and-

 

“Ow,” Kenma lands on the sidewalk hard, most likely bruising a hip. He looks up at the person he walked into, and blushed when he realized it was Kuroo. “Sorry,”

 

“Hey Kenma,” He smiled. It looked crooked in the half-light of dawn, but it was comforting nonetheless as Kuroo pulled him up from the ground. “What brings you here at six AM?”

 

“Oh, ah, Taketora kicked me out? Oikawa wasn’t happy with the pictures. Apparently there weren’t enough of food so he dragged me out of my apartment like five hours ago to yell at me,” Kenma was rambling now, but Kuroo was still holding his hand and they were far to close. “So I figured that while I was up I would head back over here to take more pictures, because Oikawa gave me too much caffeine for me to sleep at all in the next millennium.”

 

Kuroo’s lips formed an _O_ as he dropped Kenma’s hand to turn and unlock the door. Soon, he was leading Kenma inside the dim café.

 

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks as he switches on all the lights. “I usually just eat here before I feed the cats. You can just take pictures as I make everything.”

 

Kenma agrees, and soon enough he’s wearing a pink flowery apron and covered in flour. Kuroo is humming along to Crystal Castles. It’s nice, and Kenma is smiling and laughing and stealing apple wedges as Kuroo cuts them to make apple muffins.

 

He snaps a picture here and there, struggling to refrain from snapping one of Kuroo’s butt again.

 

“Kenma?”

 

He didn’t respond, instead just looked up from his camera where he had been flipping through the photos he had taken.

 

“Is there a reason Oikawa Toru just texted me about his hard drive being compromised because of pictures of my ass that you took?”

 

“I wouldn’t say that it was necessarily compromised- “

 

“Kenma?”

 

“What?” Kenma forced the word even. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised that it took this long for Oikawa to say something.

 

“You have flour on your face,” Kuroo leaned over the table and brushed Kenma’s hair out of his eyes.

 

Kenma pulled away, ducking his head before he rubbed his sweater sleeve against his cheek. When he checked the fabric for powder marks, he found none. He frowned and asked Kuroo if he got all of it off.

 

“It’s fine, Kenma. I can get it.” He pulled Kenma closer by the hand. “It’s just right here,”

 

He should have seen it coming, Kenma later realized. Kuroo hadn’t been the best at hiding anything.

 

But none of that mattered then, in that moment as Kuroo kissed Kenma over the counter. His hand slipped up into dyed blonde hair, tugging at the roots gently as Kenma kissed back. It wasn’t comfortable, and metal bit into his hips, but Kuroo’s lips were soft and insistence against his own. He sighed into the kiss, content with the pressure between them.

 

When they pulled away, Kuroo smiled.

 

“I don’t mind, Kenma.”

 

...

 

After Kenma sent Oikawa the pictures (the ones of food, not Kuroo in various poses), Kenma kept finding excuses to visit Neko Kissaten before it opened in the morning. Maybe it was the apple pie, or the warm and friendly cats.

 

But Kenma knew what it was, and it isn’t hard to guess right.

 

Kuroo Tetsuro was a gift to humanity in every sense of the phrase.


End file.
